The above icon is in honor of the other girls in the Bristol Royalty.
Now, may I just say WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?
We are not supposed to die. We are not supposed to get breast cancer. We are not supposed to go from upright and threatening the next kid who leaves a Lego in the kitchen with a lifetime of drying dishes to....dead.
45. Forty-fucking-five. We were just talking about how I want another baby and the fabulous goth onesies she'd be making for it (she was convinced I'd have a girl). I was giving her tips on how to get grass stains out of soccer uniforms. We were coupon-geeking.
And now she's gone.
Now, may I just say WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?
We are not supposed to die. We are not supposed to get breast cancer. We are not supposed to go from upright and threatening the next kid who leaves a Lego in the kitchen with a lifetime of drying dishes to....dead.
45. Forty-fucking-five. We were just talking about how I want another baby and the fabulous goth onesies she'd be making for it (she was convinced I'd have a girl). I was giving her tips on how to get grass stains out of soccer uniforms. We were coupon-geeking.
And now she's gone.

Comments
Much love to you and yours
I'm sorry, honey.
I am so sorry. 45 is too young, just far too young. :(
**hugs**
I'm sorry for your loss. *hugs*
I am so sorry.
*Hugs*
*hugs*
I'm so sorry for your loss.